


Bounty Hunters, Smugglers, and Thieves

by TwistLimeGreen72



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Movie: Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, star wars legends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28951923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistLimeGreen72/pseuds/TwistLimeGreen72
Summary: If unthawing him would in any way help her plight, she'd do it. If he'd been frozen for even just a week or two, it might work. Though, it was still risky even then. Even if he were one hundred percent, it would be difficult. Rated T for now. Mostly LEGENDS!
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey all, this starts during the events of The Empire Strikes Back and is my first trip into the Star Wars Universe! Hope you all enjoy! This is going to be legends universe. I really love a lot of the legends stories. They're so amazingly interesting to me! And will include a lot of Legends.

Batuu, Black Spire Outpost

Eleven-year-old Kiya Shesh climbed up onto her knees in the pilot seat of her grandfather's ship. She leaned over the wide control panel, placing her hands between gauges so she could see what was further beyond the transparisteel. Outside the smuggler's port was a bustle of activity. Sunlight highlighted the rich auburn hair that had escaped her braid and hung around her round freckled face. All different manner of creatures and droids hurried back and forth. Kiya watched a small grey gonk droid, a smile tugging at her lips as it scuttled out of sight.

The pavement was wet from recent rain. Steam rose from the deep grate covered trenches Kiya wasn't sure what was for. Almost directly in front of her grandfather ship, a Snivvian appeared to be arguing with a Devaronian. Even from a distance, she could see the Snivvian's large nostrils flare in its snout. His pink upper lip curled up, making his small white tusks more prominent. The Devaronians large pointy horned head shook as he gestured brusquely at the stack of crates standing by his ship. The Snivvian held up the holo device and shook his head. His horned companion grew even more agitated, hand going to the large blaster strapped to his thigh. He took a menacing step in the smaller creature's direction; Kiya's heartbeat picked up in response. The Snivvian's hands flew up in defense. He took a step back and shook his head. His lips raced as he fired off words she couldn't hear.

The Devaronian seemed to calm down and returned its attention to the crates stacked nearby.

Kiya watched them a moment more than dropped back into the seat with a huff. She blew the hair out of her face.

Her grandfather had left her on his ship while he went to the cantina. Kiya loved the Serawk. This Corellian built light freighter was the only place she'd felt safe and happy since her parent's death, but she hated having to stay inside of it when it was on solid ground.

This was not the first time Kiya or Kia, as her grandfather usually called her, traveled to Batuu either. The last time they were here, her grandfather had taken them to the speeder races in Galma. That was a treat. She usually wasn't allowed off ship here.

Kiya dropped her head back against the back of the chair and dangled one leg over the arm, kicking her foot back and forth. She remembered why she had come here in the first place. Kiya flopped over, hanging her body over the arm of the chair, her long braid flipping down past her face as she looked for Fenni.

Gaining her feet, Kiya called "Fenni."

She stood and headed for the hatch, placing one hand on each side. She looked left and then right. "Here, Mister Loth Cat," she called in a sing-song voice. Her mouth puckered, and she drummed her fingers on the durasteel frame under her hands.

She knew he wasn't in the hold or in her quarters or any of the others. She'd checked the galley as well. "Hmmmmm." Kiya turned around and crossed the cockpit, leaning over the controls again. She slowly scanned what she could see of the landing pad. Her stomach knotted. If he was out there, she'd never see him again.

Her stomach dropped completely as he moved into sight just beyond the view screen. Her shoulders slumped. He had climbed out when her grandfather was unloading. He looked back over his shoulder.

"Stay," she mouthed at the creature, who simply gave her an impatient look in response. She spun around and ran out of the cockpit, nearly skidding into the wall. Kiya grabbed her coat off the back of a chair as she sprinted through the galley. When she reached the main hatch, she paused, worrying her bottom lip. She knew she should wait for her grandad. If she did, she didn't know if she'd find Fenni. Kiya stared up at the button, hesitating for a second before she pressed it. She only opened the hatch enough for her to slip through the opening then slid through, dropping to the ground below. She could climb back in, but not just anyone could squeeze through.

She made a cursory sweep of her surroundings as she spun around to find her intractable little friend on the ground by the front of the ship, cleaning his hindquarters.

Kiya watched him cautiously for a moment. "Fenni," she called softly, carefully moving toward him.

The orange and black loth cat's big pointy black-tipped ears perked. He lifted his head but merely snapped his tail before he went back to cleaning.

"Come here, boy," Kiya called next. She watched as he lifted his head again.

Encouraged when he didn't move, though Kiya knew better, she continued as if he could understand her. "I'll get you some pickled sarilian minnows when we get back to Nar Shadda." sarillion minnows were disgusting little things in Kiya's opinion, but her grandfather and her pet shared a love for them.

He looked back over his shoulder at her again and meowed. Then lifted his skinny toed foot in front of him and began cleaning his digits. Kiya used his preoccupation and continued to inch in his direction warily.

She squatted down when she was within a couple of feet of him, offering the temperamental little beastie her hand.

He lifted his broad head and tilted it to the side. His black lip curled up over his teeth slightly, revealing two rows of sharp teeth. He sniffed at her fingers. Kiya leaned closer, her hand slipping around the back of his head. She scratched his ear, shifting her weight so she could awkwardly grab him.

She gently started urging him closer. "That's it, Fenni," she encouraged. She leaned closer again, planning to edge him nearer. The Devaronian yelled, startling her pet. Fenni snarled, scratching Kiya's hand as he pulled away. Kiya lunged after him at the last second, landing squarely on her stomach.

"You mangy moof!" She grumbled after him as he ran across the pavement. He jumped down into one of the trenches.

A split second later, Kiya stood and jogged across the pavement toward the opening in the grating where he'd disappeared.

Kiya paused just short of the trench. "Fenni," she called almost desperately. Biting her lip, she looked back over her shoulder at her grandfather's ship then back down. She would be in so much trouble if her grandfather came back and she wasn't there. Kiya climbed down anyway.

There were no real footholds, so she shimmied down a pipe onto a large crate that sat below. Kiya looked around, jumping to the ground. Water splashed around her booted feet.

Steam rose from the pipes running along the bottom; the tunnel's air was warm and damp and smelled musty. The gentle hum of machinery blocked out a lot of the nose from above. There was a corner ahead of her that she saw Fenni run around. Kiya looked over her shoulder, down the long darkened tunnel, swallowing roughly. She turned forward again, cautiously following the direction she saw him go.

"Fenni, " she called softly. "You mangy nerf herding chobb's knob." she added under her breath.

Kiya paused when she reached the corner and peeked around it. She'd be lucky if her grandfather let her keep him after this. Creed Shesh had most assuredly not wanted her to have him in the first place. He said a space ship was no place for an animal, but in the end, he'd caved. Thick steam blocked her view for a moment. As it thinned, Kiya saw Fenni sitting, not far away, cleaning himself again.

Kiya bit her lip, slipping around the corner. His large ears perked, and he looked in her direction. "Hi, Fenni," she said.

Much to her surprise, he let her get to him and scoop him up. Kiya spun around, hurrying back the way she came. Now that she had Fenni, her thoughts shifted to how she was going to climb back out the way she came with her loth cat. She would probably have to tuck him inside her jacket and hope he didn't scratch her too bad.

Kiya glanced over her shoulder as she reached the corner. She looked ahead of her just in time to see someone filling her path. Kiya stopped short, just inches from her obstacle. She nearly tipped forward. Her eyes were level with green plates on an armor-plated chest. Her gaze shot upward, her heart pounding harder and faster as it went. She marked two small rectangular, blinking red lights on her trip. Kiya's mouth fell open slightly as she met the regard of a helmeted head complete with a dark t shaped visor.

She hugged Fenni closer as he hissed and struggled.

"Kia!" a voice called from far away, drawing her attention upward again. She looked back at her companion as she opened her mouth to call to her grandfather.

The stranger shook his head, lifting one gloved finger in front of his visor. He nodded toward the route she had used to climb down. Two hands spanned her small waist, and Kiya found herself being lifted onto the crate. He reached out and took the irritated loth cat from her hands, and she started climbing back up the pipes she'd shimmed down. She could hear the sound of hover sleds passing nearby and people above. When she reached the top, she crawled out, turning when completely free. She found the stranger standing on the crate, holding Fenni up to her.

Her grandfather called her name again.

Kiya turned, gathering Fenni close as she stood. She looked in the direction of the Serawk as the chain of droid operated hover sleds moved past. She just caught a glimpse of her grandfather through the sleds loads.

"Grandad!" Kiya called. Then she glanced back into the trench to find the stranger had vanished. She looked in both directions, and there was no sign of him.

Kiya turned and ran toward her grandfather. "I am so sorry, grandad. Fenni escaped."

Xx

Tatooine, 3 ABY, 12 years later

Tatooine's suns were unforgiving. Inhospitable and vicious. So was its terrain. The sandwinds were equally as ruinous. Kiya Shesh had heard stories of the winds sanding derma down to the soft tissue beneath the sun on the Dune Sea. She didn't believe them. She knew the Tusken Raiders wore garb that covered every inch of their bodies. Despite part of it being a breathing apparatus, she felt sure they wore rough weaved fabrics because they lasted longer and protected them better in the arid climate as the other inhabitants did. In her three years of experience in this barren brown terrain, the moisture leaching winds dried out the flesh and cracked it first. Sand found its way everywhere. It was her life now. It was in her lungs. It clung to her scalp, under her thick braid of heavy auburn hair, embedded so deeply into her skin she thought she would never be free of it. When she had tried to run, Ordo had taken her boots and left her with no shoes. Two weeks later, the bloated Iktochi gave her sandals. Before then, she walked barefoot. He wanted to beat her. He tried to break her down until there was little left. Until she was as desolate as her surroundings. Until Kiya understood she'd never escape.

The sands burnt her tender feet terribly in the beginning; she knew that was the point. To make her feel powerless. Now her feet were calloused, and she had wrapped them, and her lower calves in the same thin light grey material her tunic were made out of. They weren't the boots she had worn when she came here, but they were better than nothing. And her will had grown even stronger.

Ordo stripped her of adequate clothing for the desert elements as well, when she didn't bend. His final indignity was to lock her in "the winter garden." His garden wasn't like any greenhouse she'd ever seen. It was a small durasteel box, barely large enough for her curled up frame. It had air holes drilled into the lid and a little narrow slot for the jailor to dump stuff in. He'd left her there a day and a night. She'd played the contrite one as well as she could. Ordo was too bloated and fat on his own hubris to see she only played the part. Someday, Kiya would see Ordo paid for the things he had done to her and the others. She didn't know how, but ultimately she would escape this world. She would escape. And when she did, she planned to track down her uncle if he was still alive.

For now, sand and dirt and grit were her lot.

What the sand didn't take, the sun burned with equal ferocity. It made her hair lighter and her skin darker than it had ever been before, expect for the scar on her cheek.

Shielding her eyes with one hand, Kiya lifted her gaze toward the largest of Tatooine's suns. The day hadn't reached its zenith yet, and the sands already seemed to boil under her feet.

Today, they were moving her and a handful of others to Bespin. Ordo rented their labor out to mushroom farmers or others in need, but it made her antsier than it usually would, knowing the empire's presence was largest in Bespin. And the empire was always looking for new flesh.

A droid lifted one mechanical hand, blaster held in the other. He pointed one long jointed finger toward a transport sled. Kiya slung her small bundle over her narrow shoulder and followed the direction he pointed. All the pack contained was the threadbare blanket and the crust of last night's bread she had saved. She chewed the edge of her lip as she followed the others. She was nervous, though she wouldn't show it.

Behind her, a young Wroonians girl who'd only just arrived at Ordo's sobbed softly. Kiya had heard her crying last night as well. Kiya looked over her shoulder as they shuffled toward the transport. The girl met Kiya's gaze with swollen ones of her own and cried harder, her rounded blue cheeks smeared with moisture and dust. If she continued to cry, she was lost already. The only way Kiya had survived as long as she had was by sheer force of will. Sentiment could all too easily make you weak.

Within another minute, Kiya found herself stepping onto the sled. Four rows of bench seats sat in the middle of the sled for her and the others to sit on. The back row was full; Kiya took the first seat in the third. The girl sat down beside her. It wasn't long, and the others were loaded and one of Ordo's Gamorrean guards was piloting the craft away from Mos Eisley.

Kiya carefully opened her bundle. She broke off half of her crust of bread, handing it to the girl. "Don't let them see," she advised softly as she watched the droid out the corner of her eye. Kiya tried so hard not to engage with the others. She had learned early on that it only made this experience so much more difficult.

She watched the girl as she tucked the crust inside her hand and broke a small piece off, shoved it into her mouth, and swallowed. The girl couldn't be past sixteen. Kiya almost asked but decided not to.

"What is your name?" Kiya whispered.

"Sarita." The girl's attention shifted to the scar on the left side of Kiya's face.

"Sarita," Kiya said, weighing the sound of the name on her tongue. "If you want to survive, you have to be strong." It was true. Kiya still thought about her parents and her grandfather, but she drew strength from them. It was altogether too easy to let the memories take you in the other direction. "It's the only way you will make it."

Sarita nodded, her attention dropping back the thin webbing of white scar tissue on Kiya's face from just above her left ear to her jaw. It covered nearly half of her cheek; some of the tendrils just caught the edge of her mouth and her bottom lip. "Did they do that?" Sarita asked.

Kiya shook her head. "No." It had happened so long ago. In another life, just after Fenni escaped on Batuu. They had just returned to the Smugglers Moon. The scar seemed to pull tighter with the thought.

"How long have you been here?" The girl asked next, bringing Kiya back to the present. She met Sarita's gaze.

"Quiet!" one of the guards barked.

Xxx

Thanks for reading!


	2. No One Here Gets Out Alive

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.

Chapter One

No One Here Gets Out Alive

Bib Fortuna stroked one skinny-fingered hand along the long pale lekku draped across his collarbone and shoulder. He turned back around. The ends of his dark robe lifted dust from the ground. The palace of Jabba Desilijic Tiure rose to loom behind him, one of its massive blast doors open wide like the mouth of a beast. The noonday suns burned a path across the weathered sandstone, leaving a powdery trail in its wake.

Bib Fortuna pursued the line of humanoid options presented to him again. This was the second group. Two rows nine in total, they were less attractive than the first. Of course, Abo had only shown Bib Fortuna his best stock first. It was a mark of respect, and one Bib Fortuna expected. He even had two females that the Twi'lek knew his master would find enticing additions to his collection. One was a stunning blue-skinned Wroonian, with yellow irises and inky hair. She was young and afraid. The other was a human with tanned skin, dark hair, and full pouty lips. She had a sultry, earthy appeal. She was not as young as the other, but nearly as lovely.

This would most likely mean the end for the two girls, but Jabba favored those who pleased him.

On the surface, Bib Fortuna's only purpose was to please his master. He knew what to say and how to say it. He rendered himself as in expendable to the bloated one as he could. As any good majordomo did, Bib made it his business to anticipate as many of Jabbas wants as he could. Pity, his cousin Ob hadn't learned to serve his Trandoshan master better or had been smarter about his duplicity like Bib.

Bib was smarter and served Jabba well. And with all the monks taught him, he could anticipate most anything. Keeping a steady supply of beautiful creatures on hand to serve Jabba's appetites was an easy one. Many of the Hutts' more salacious appetites were disturbing even to Bib Fortuna even after all these years. Bib ignored them, however.

The Twi'lek had control over far more than Jabba knew. He made it his business to be aware of everything that went on, and there was only one thing he couldn't control.

The man hidden behind the Mandalorian armor was a thorn in the Twi'leks' side. Bib had made it his mission to know as much about the man as he could. Everyone had their weakness—everyone except Boba Fett. Fett was impossible to read, even with all of Bib's training.

His father was none other than Jango Fett. Bib Fortuna never had the pleasure of meeting the father, but the son was a barve any smart sentient didn't cross. Boba Fett was not a man Bib Fortuna wanted shifting in the wind with his current plans, but he might have little choice. Especially now that Jabba had paid him so handsomely the Corellian and Fett had agreed to stay around for a while. Fett had no vices, no weakness that Fortuna had found. He had offered him the best of everything he could, from Jabba's most beautiful slave girls to the finest Corellian brandy's to as much information as Fortuna could gather on Fett's competition. Bib was even instrumental in Jabba gifting his favorite bounty hunter with a private room for his personal use. It was one of the only private rooms. Jabba had never afforded the same luxury to Bib Fortuna himself.

The only thing that reassured Fortuna was believing Fett only served Jabba because of the credits to be made. They were the only thing that Fett responded to; when the time came, Bib would find a way to either bring the man in Mandalorian armor to his side or pay him to stay out of it.

Neither, he was afraid would come easy. Boba Fett was paid well for his piece of "Vadar Art." Too well, in Bib Fortuna's own opinion. He was the best at his craft; Bib was aware he'd have to pay him well or promise him something he couldn't turn down. He would have to pay Fett more than the two hundred and fifty thousand credits Jabba had given him. However, it didn't matter. Bib still had his plans and Fett could be dealt with one way or another.

Bibs thoughts abruptly stopped, as did his movements. He stepped back a half a step, jabbing his finger toward a young woman who hadn't been part of either group he'd seen.

"That one. The scarred one." He said in basic. He jabbed one clawed nail in the direction of the girl standing near the transport behind those lined up.

"Are you sure?" the Rodian asked, surprised. "That one is a laborer destined for the Darklighter Estate." He went on obsequiously, "We always bring the best for Master Jabba."

"Luckily, I'm not looking for the best," Fortuna nearly snapped, his patience wearing thin.

Abo pointed at the girl and ordered one of his blaster wielding minions to fetch her. She didn't immediately comply. Fotuna's lips twisted upward for a moment as he questioned if she would run. She stared up at the human male for a moment before she slung something over her shoulder, and she moved.

Bib Fortuna was pleased; she looked strong and healthy, besides the scar on her face. Pity, she would have been fetching if not for it, he observed. He could have placed her in the dancer's pit as well. "I'll take her."

Finding Jabba's Chef, another helper for his kitchen, was Fortuna's main reason for requesting Abo stop today. Jabba grew increasingly irritated with the slowness of his kitchens. It didn't help that Porcellus' last two serving girls had ended up as amusements in some of Jabba's more violent entertainments. He had ordered them tied together and thrown into the pit of his newest attraction.

The beast bit through one, silencing her cries, and tore one leg of the other as well. The girl who was still alive fell to the ground. Bib hadn't looked himself, but he'd heard others taunt her attempts to crawl away. The sound of her terror and the jeering crowd had been nearly deafening.

Fortuna was determined to find one who'd attract less attention this time. Of course, her scar could also raise Jabba's ire if he saw her, and she could end up torn apart for it. Bib would advise Porcellus to keep her out of Jabba's sight. He doubted this one would attract nearly as much attention with the Hutts patrons. That was at least something.

Xx

The sun was blinding as Kiya stepped forward. She kept her gaze impassive but inside, her stomach coiled tightly, and her heart raced. As much or more than it did when the pink-eyed Twi'lek chose Sarita from the line: the girl would never make it here. Her odds weren't good anywhere, but if she'd made it to one of the moisture farmers, she would have stood a better chance. The idea of being bought by the Imps at Bespin had made Kiya uneasy, but this. This was worse. She'd heard stories of the atrocities that transpired inside the former monastery, now the home of one of the most infamous Hutts in the galaxy. No one here gets out alive unless they were a mercenary, bounty hunter, or some other sentient who came here willingly, and even then, it didn't ensure survival.

Kiya stopped beside Sarita. Her body was tense like she might bolt at any second. Panic marked her features. She stared up at the menacing fortress walls before them. Sarita's gaze switched to one of the guards waiting nearby and dunes beyond. Kiya grabbed her hand, squeezing sharply. Sarita met her gaze, and Kiya shook her head.

Sarita wasn't much younger than Kiya herself was when this life became hers. Even then, Kiya was a fighter; she had already seen Sarita was not. Still, Kiya didn't know how she would have bared up in the face of what they were facing now. Kiya had always thought of herself as Creed Shesh's granddaughter, the only child of a Hapan mother and a Corellian father. They'd raised her to be strong—a fighter.

Her attention shifted to the dark-clad Twi'lek as he paid Abo then to the cavernous opening. Kiya took a deep breath and willed her own wary nerves to calm. A fighter she was and strong she would remain.

She squeezed Sarita's hand again as the guards began to move them inside the enormous door, then pulled her hand away.

They'd barely stepped inside when the Twi'lek stopped. He looked back; his beady pink eyes gave Kiya a chill as they slid to her. "Take that one to Porcellus." He turned his attention to Sarita and the other girl. "You wait."

Sarita's eyes widened, and she stiffened beside Kiya.

"Don't let them see your fear," Kiya whispered as she moved to follow the guard. She didn't look back as the guard led her away.

Kiya followed the Gamorrean along a dark corridor, trying not to think about where the large tusked, green-skinned creature might be taking her. Instead, she surveyed her surroundings. The air was warm, not as warm as outside but warm nonetheless. A sour smell permeated it, tinged with the faint scent of carrion. They saw very few others as they turned from one tunnel to another. Kiya tried to mark every turn they took in her memory.

Something scuttled in the darkness. A row of blue lights flashed not far from the floor. Kiya's eyes strained, and still, she couldn't see hardly anything; then it moved again. One long leg appeared, then another as the arachnid-like creature moved into view. Her guide seemed unbothered as it passed, but Kiya instinctively moved closer to the wall, her steps slowing.

She stopped moving, watching the thing as it moved past her. It wasn't technically alive, whatever it was. The spider-like body was mechanical, and the translucent head was actually a jar with what looked like a brain inside. She'd never seen anything like it.

"Come," her tusked guard barked in basic.

A moment later they came to a set of spiral stairs, and they climbed. Kiya could hear the din of people as they reached the top of the stone steps. Just a head of them to the left, an arched doorway led to a room. A band started playing just as the crowded space came into view. Kiya looked inside as they moved past. For a moment, it reminded her of a smuggler's run. It wasn't, however. If it were, there would be people there who would recognize her.

Xx

"Klatooine Paddy Frogs. One of Jabba's favorites, we always keep them on hand." The cook Porcellus explained. His chef's hat perched on his head, he dumped flavored blue brandy in the aquarium. "The brandy makes them more docile?" Her new boss explained, his bushy mustache twitched as he did so.

Kiya had seen them before, though she could honestly say she'd never thought of eating them. Now her Loath Cat. He'd have eaten them. But again, there wasn't much he wouldn't eat.

She glanced up, but Porcellus didn't look at her, just continued to tend the amphibians. "What Jabba wants, we see to it we supply," he said.

Kiya was shocked when she found herself in the kitchen of all places. The man standing across the large wooden table from her had been glad to see her. He explained his last serving girls met with an accident. He wouldn't meet her gaze when he told her, and Kiya felt sure there was more to the story, but didn't ask. Something told her there were a great many things about this place she didn't want to know, but she'd become acquainted with quickly enough anyway.

"You will help me tend them while they're in the kitchen. One of the others will take them to Jabba."

Kiya nodded. "What do we feed them?"

"They're thoroughly pickled and rarely around long enough to need nourishment."

He pushed the aquarium aside, nodding to another kitchen worker to take the bowl.

He had given her a long list of duties today, most of which pertained to serving the crowd above. He told her where to walk if possible and where to place platters of food. One of the others would show her at the next meal.

The Hutt ate a total of nine meals a day, so the large kitchen was always in use. Even right now, the smell of roasting meat filled the air, and another kitchen helper was preparing canapes. Kiya would help serve the meals. However, she wouldn't attend to Jabba himself or anyone near his dais. Porcellus had emphasized many times already that she was to stay away from the Hutt. It was not advice she was likely to ignore, though she didn't say as much.

He said the feasting and revelry had grown more intense since a thief who stole from Jabba had been caught and hung up in the throne room. Kiya wasn't sure if that meant he was alive or dead. She didn't ask, but for their sake, she hoped they weren't alive.

Porcellus turned his attention to two large trays sitting further down the table, and he began handing her plates of sweet treats and fruits to put on them. They prepared them before he'd shown her the frogs. "These are for the dancers' pit. They always have a repast at this time of day."

On the other tray, they arranged mugs and two different pictures of drink.

"Who will take them?" Kiya asked.

"Phlegmin will show you now. After tonight, it will be your responsibility."

Kiya watched as the dirty kitchen boy appeared beside her. He lifted one of the trays as she lifted the other, then followed him out the door. She made a mental note of the route they took.

XxX

Later that night

Kiya followed Phlegmin into the dancer's pit for the second time today; she instantly searched for Sarita. She hadn't been here when Kiya came earlier, but the other girl who came with them was. She had given Kiya an apprehensive look and shook her head no. When Kiya served her a drink, she whispered they'd taken Sarita away.

Kiya found her sitting at the other end of the narrow room, lined with lighted mirrors and dressing tables, this time. Kiya sat the tray containing the drinks on the table and grabbed a mug, pouring some of the blue juice inside. Sarita didn't move, just stared blankly into the mirror.

Kiya made her way toward Sarita, mug in hand. The girl's inky hair was combed and dressed— the rags she wore earlier, replaced with a sheer grey bodystocking. A solid band of grey ran around her breasts and her hips. She continued to stare at her reflection, listlessly in the mirror.

Kiya stopped just behind her. She leaned past Sarita, setting a mug in front of her.

"Sarita?" she questioned softly.

Sarita's gaze shifted in the mirror and grabbed Kiya's hand. "Kiya."

Kiya turned her head slightly, surveying as much of the room as she could. The dark-haired woman in the red jumpsuit who was here earlier observed them closely. Kiya turned her attention back to Sarita, meeting the girl's yellow eyes, she noted the glassiness again.

"I can't stay," Kiya said softly. "Are you well?"

Sarita nodded. "Melina gave me something she said would calm my nerves." A warm glow blossomed on Sarita's blue cheeks.

Kiya studied her. Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Something in a drink. She said it would relax me."

Spice. Kiya continued to study Sarita. "Don't take anymore."

"Enough." Their watcher finally spoke. She made her way toward them. "You, girl! Go back to the kitchen."

Kiya looked up at the woman in the red jumpsuit, then at Sarita again. "I have to go."

Sarita's eyes widened with panic.

"Don't take anymore," Kiya whispered and stepped away.

XxX

Thanks for reading!


	3. The Infernal

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable!

Chapter Two

The Infernal

Eight days later.

Kiya reached up, brushing an errant hair from her flushed face as she stepped into the busy kitchen. She moved out of the way of another server; Kiya sat an empty tray on the stack by the giant sink to the right of the door. The air was hot in here; it was almost appealing to dunk her head in the soapy water within, but honestly, it was hot everywhere in this infernal place: day and night. For once, the thin material of her clothing was a blessing. She kept her hair pulled back and off her neck as much as possible and no longer wrapped her feet, despite the sand covering the floor.

She turned, briefly meeting Porcellus brown eyes as she grabbed another full tray from the table. He stood in front of the stove, as usual, working on some concoction to whet the Hutt's appetite. Tonight he would roast dune lizard on the spit in the great hall at Jabba's request. She headed back out the door. Surprisingly, enough things weren't as bad here as she thought they would be. Well, not in the kitchen. Porcellus wasn't here of his own volition either; he'd been a chef of some repute in his old life. Even so, he managed a staff of nine. He wasn't cruel either. In Kiya's experience, slaves who had any control used that power against any they could. It was like it made them feel better about their own situation. Porcellus wasn't one of those sentients. She wouldn't call his behavior precisely kind, either. He was always harried and on edge but still had the patience to show you how to do things. He gave her a pallet in the kitchen corner. Porcellus and Phelgmin slept in the kitchen also. The bed was because part of her duties included starting the kettles to heating up early. No matter the reason, it mattered little. She didn't have to sleep piled up with the others like nearly everyone else did.

The din of the throne room grew louder as Kiya approached, drawing her thoughts to another. Sarita hadn't been so lucky. Melina Carniss was not kind, not even passingly close, and Sarita had not adjusted well. Kiya's stomach tightened sickly. She knew what was going to happen if Sarita didn't begin earning her keep. She had heard the beast below the throne room and caught a glimpse of it as it's keeper sat on its foot as it sat and ate. Just the memory nearly made her gag. Luckily Sarita wouldn't be dancing at this time. The knowledge made Kiya breathe easier. In the last eight days, Sarita hadn't stopped taking the Spice Melina offered from what Kiya saw. Instead, she took it more and more. Survival in a place like this required using your wits, but Sarita was too afraid. Watching the girl was like watching a macabre tableau that you were helpless to stop.

Kiya shifted her hold on the tray in her hand to see the steps as she descended into the throne room. Sy Snootles sang as Max Rebo's Jizz band performed another upbeat number; the three backup singers moved to the beat and harmonized perfectly. Kiya didn't know any of their names besides Sy and Max. They'd arrived yesterday. The Theelin, however, was one of the most stunning sentients Kiya had ever seen. She eclipsed her companions. Her vibrant red hair and pale speckled skin kept the attention of most of Jabba's patrons firmly on her.

Kiya skirted away from the large grate in the room's center as much as she could as she headed for a booth on the far side of the room. The Askijian dancer, Yarna d'al' Gargan, had told Kiya what actually happened to the last two serving girls.

Kiya reached the table placing the platter of Gorg egg beignets in its lighted center along with a plate of stuffed gizzards and two large bowls of custard. Kiya was confident she did not want to know what was in the yellowish-brown fare. She didn't look at any of them, just turned and headed to the next table, placing the same food on its top as well. Kiya did as Taroga, the young male server who had first shown Kiya about, told her. She moved to the edge of the room, scanning the denizens present to see if anyone needed anything. The idea was to anticipate their needs as often as possible.

Tonight Porcellus was serving beetle broth, roasted Dune Lizard, vegetable crepes, and a meat salad of some sort. Dessert was cream of mint and ladies fingers, whatever that was, and peach pasties.

Kiya looked about the room, making sure no one was in immediate need. She turned, hurrying around the corner and down the stairs.

"Ah, there you are, Kiya," Porcellus said as she entered the kitchen a short time later. His voice booming as usual. He laid his spoon on the stove and stepped away, wiping his hands on his apron. "Come." He moved toward the counter near the sink and the row of crates sitting there. He opened a box. "I need you to go through these and wash them. When you're done, I'll show you what to do next."

Kiya moved to the sink and washed her hands before she began sorting through them, one by one. She placed the ones without soft spots or bruises in a large colander and set the damaged ones to the side.

"I need someone to stay mostly in the kitchen tonight and dish up dessert and take the dancers their repast." He passed Kiya a peach. "Phelgmin can't do it."

Kiya didn't ask why; she just nodded. The kitchen boy honestly creeped her out a bit. She had found him lurking outside the dancer's pit, peaking through the cracked door, chewing on his nails. When she entered, two of the dancers were nearly naked.

"Toroga will help you as much as he can, but I will need him and the others in the throne room as much as possible," Porcellus said, bringing Kiya back to the present.

She nodded.

XxX

Later That Night

XxX

Boba Fett stepped into the smaller arched doorways that led to Jabba the Hutt's throne room and paused. The smell of roasting meat had been teasing his nose since he left his quarters. His standard EE-3 carbine rifle in his hand, he surveyed the room before him. He had been gone from Jabba's Palace for nine days escorting Jabba's great aunt Jiliac on family business, and it would appear Jabba had acquired a new dancing girl in his absence.

As far as Hutts went, Jiliac was a preferable companion to her nephew. She insisted Boba dine with her every night. And when he declined the offer, she surmised it was because of his "anonymity." She had insisted he set with her anyway, saying she was sure her nephew paid Boba sufficiently to warrant he humor her. She had asked him when the last time anyone had seen him without his helmet was; he had replied they weren't alive, so it didn't matter.

As far as Boba knew, dining with any Hutt wasn't an appetizing ordeal ever. Jiliac had more manners than her nephew, even when she ate her own bowl of live amphibians.

She found Boba's hand in the destruction of Shell Hutts amusing and him a mystery. She'd asked questions that he hadn't answered, and apparently, his silence had spoken loudly enough.

The last thing she said to him was she wondered just how much her nephew underestimated him.

Truthfully Boba Fett had little taste for companionship of any kind. Hutts notwithstanding. Most sentients need to chatter or to state the obvious irritated him. He was here for one reason and one reason only. That was only in part because of the credits. He was confident; Jabba overestimated his loyalty.

His attention returned to the Wroonian girl. Boba had no interest in physical relations anymore, but he still admired beauty when he saw it and the Wroonian girl was worth looking at. She was nearly as lovely as the Theelin, watching him intently as she danced and sang across the room, beside Lyn Me and the Rodian. The Theelin hadn't looked away from him since he stepped into the doorway. As soon as the song finished, she would find her way to him. So would Lyn Me; she always did when she played at Jabba's palace. Boba had saved her and several of her fellow villager's lives when she was a child.

The new slave girl had Flawless blue skin, brighter in tone than Lyn Me, dark hair, a lithe frame, and possessed natural grace. She twirled gracefully on one foot, the long braid of hair whipping around her shoulders as Max Rebo and his band played. Bib Fortuna and Melina Carniss had outdone themselves this time; she was sure to find her way to the end of Jabba's chain soon. Boba didn't have to use the macrobinoc's built into his helmet to see how glassy her eyes were either. Spice. She was hopped up on it. She wouldn't be the first of Jabba's dancing girls to develop a taste for it. Boba abhorred the use of Spice in all scenarios. He had no use for anything that altered one's perception. Spice could be preferable to dwelling in the unaltered reality of Jabba's Palace for a weak creature incapable of rescuing themselves.

Wroonian were soft creatures whose homeworld was in the inner rim. They weren't suited for life out here. Her time was borrowed as soon as she stepped inside.

Boba stepped down off the step and made his way around the edge of the room toward Jabba's platform. Alert to everything happening around him. Jabba had ordered a feast to celebrate Boba's return and the success of his aunt's trip.

Boba stepped up onto the platform on the right of Jabba. Behind him, Jabba's cook roasted a giant dune lizard on the spit.

"We are glad you are back, Boba!" Bib Fortuna said, appearing at Boba's left elbow. "You were missed," the pale Twi'lek nearly gushed, in his native tongue.

Boba understood him well enough but did not respond. He was confident the Twi'lek hadn't meant missed. Bib Fortuna would've been happier if Boba Fett had met with an accident. The dislike between the two was mutual. Truthfully, Boba had little use for sycophants in general. Fortuna wasn't quite as unctuous with his praise as The Assembler, but Boba Fett thought he might just like him less than the arachnid middle man. And that was no small feat.

"Is there anything I can get for you, Boba?" The Twi'lek asked. "Would you like me to have a meal sent to your room?"

Boba slowly turned his head and stared at him through his visor. The twi'lek flushed under his silent regard.

"If there is anything," Bib offered lastly.

Boba Fett watched the Twi'lek walk away. Not that it mattered, but for just a moment, he wondered what Fortuna would say if he knew someone had approached Boba with a bounty for him. Not dead or alive. Dead.

Tesseck, Jabba's Quarren bookkeeper, placed it through one of the legitimate businesses he set up to funnel money from Jabba's criminal enterprises. The Quarren had no idea Boba Fett knew it was him who placed it, but it wasn't difficult to figure out when you made it your business to know certain things. The bounty was only ten thousand, but it was still tempting. Unfortunately, it was best if Bib Fortuna stayed alive for the moment.

The music stopped, and Rystáll and Lyn Me made their way in his direction. Lyn Me always sought him out as a sign of respect for what he had done for her village when she was a child. Rystáll Sant sought him out for other reasons. She was an exotic beauty. Boba listened to her and even talked to her for precise reasons.

Rystáll and Lyn Me reached him. The former of the two stepped up close to him, placing one graceful hand on his right chest plate. She leaned seductively closer. "Boba, I was afraid I would miss you this trip."

He looked at her but said nothing for a moment. "I am here," his voice sounded harsh and unused in his own ears.

Her full bright red lips curved upward, and she nearly batted her eyelashes. "You could accompany me to the pit?" She questioned, her voice laced with innuendo. Beside her, Lyn Me cleared her throat.

This was not the first time the redhead made such an offer. She did nearly every time he was near her.

"Kei'nata tun, Boba Fett," Lyn Me said respectfully like always. She spoke in her people's tongue and lifted both palms up facing him.

Boba nodded.

"Come, Rystáll, let us leave, Boba Fett. We will be performing again shortly."

Rystáll beamed up at him, running her hand across his armor-plated chest. "Until later then," she said and sauntered away.

Xxx

Kiya carefully plated the peach pasties, just as Porcellus had shown her. Making sure she didn't break the crusts. Next, she used a small mesh colander to sift a slight sheen of powdered sugar onto them. Porcellus had shifted things around and had no plans for Kiya to be in the throne room unless he sent for her. She was to finish dishing up desserts as he had shown her and serve refreshments to the dancers and the band in the dancer's pit. At first, the news had made her antsy; like maybe she had done something wrong, and that was why she wasn't serving in the main hall; then, it was a relief.

As the revelry grew, she could hear it even in the kitchen. Her mind shifted to Sarita, an uneasy feeling filling the pit of her stomach. Kiya shut it down. It was easier not to think about her at this moment. Kiya moved to the other tray she had begun preparing previously. She already placed several bowls of sliced Veejy Fruit on it. The delicacy was a late addition to the menu. Porcellus wasn't sure it would arrive today. When it did, he'd had her prepare enough for the band and the dancers. Veejy fruit grew on Sy Snootles homeworld of Lowick. Coincidently the spiny oblong fruit was one of Kiya's favorites as well. Maybe it was more the memory that went with it though she loved the taste of the tangy-sweet fruit. Her grandfather had taken her to Lowick not long after he'd taken her from her uncle's home. Kiya stilled for a moment as the beginning of a memory took her. Her grandfather's hearty chuckle, the feel of the salt spray on her cheeks, the smell of the sea air, the sunshine on her skin. She was running along the beach, giggling loudly. Powder blue eyes as pale as her own danced with mischief as her grandfather chased after her. The little girl from Smugglers Moon had never played on a beach before that day.

Kiya pushed the memory away and the ache forming in her chest. Stealing herself, she reminded herself, memories really had no place in her new life. Kiya began filling cups with Corellian wine Porcellus had given her and snifters with brandy, one of which was warmed.

It was for Sy Snootles, herself. Porcellus said she always requested warm brandy when she was performing at the palace. It, like gargling with salt, was good for your throat.

When she finished pouring the drinks, she lifted the tray and headed for the Dancers Pit.

Xx

Thanks for reading!


	4. The Long One

The same night

Kiya wound her way through the crowd, trying to keep her hold on the tray of drinks. The main hall was much busier than it was a few hours ago; luckily, she didn't have to enter the throne room. Her gaze still passed over the scene, however. Kiya just caught a glimpse of Sarita, dressed in black silk netting, as she made her way up the winding stairs. There was a Sabacc game underway in a room just above the main hall, and Porcellus decided he needed her more than he had initially thought. He had returned to the kitchen after the main meal was served, frazzled. He sent her and Phelgmin with trays of moonshine, whiskey, colored brandy, and wines.

Phelgmin just pushed his way through the crowd spilling out into the hall until his head of dirty blonde hair was no longer visible. Kiya tried to scoot past them as well. A towering Weequay stepped into her path. His broad frame completely blocked her way. His long braids hung to his waist, there was a large blaster strapped to his thigh. Kiya stared up at the back of his head. She took a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips. She decided not to follow the boy's example in this instance.

She leaned closer, clearing her throat. "Drink."

The tallish Gand beside him turned his head and looked down at her with large insectoid eyes. The metal respirator he wore gave him a cybernetic look, with tubes hanging down and attached to canisters. Kiya remembered being afraid of the first Gand she had met as a child because of that mechanism. He had been one of her grandfather's business associates. He had turned out to be one of her favorites in the end. This one spoke to the Weequay in a language Kiya didn't understand.

The Weequay turned sharply, looking down at her. "Drink?" She offered, lifting her tray a little.

He grabbed a cup of moonshine then stepped out of the way.

Kiya knew he glared down at her as she moved past him, but she didn't make eye contact again. She had already learned the servers in this palace generally caused annoyance if noticed. That was the main reason they tried to anticipate needs rather than being asked. Her gaze traveled around the room. The other girl who had arrived with them sat perched on this knee of Devaronian at the table. She was hardly recognizable in her wine-colored bodysuit and makeup. She met Kiya's gaze, the edge of her mouth lifted slightly, then her attention went back to her companion. Kiya watched the players as she made her way about the room, studying the cards in their hands. Jhabacc was what they were actually playing. She wasn't sure what the house rules were. However, the Skrilling pilot at the table had a card up his sleeve, which was admittedly no small feat for the three-fingered sentient. The Ishi Tib had a shill reading cards hidden in the spectators.

A few other females were present as well. The mostly male crowd made short work of emptying both trays.

Phelgmin stood to the side in the doorway to the throne room as Kiya rounded the corner. He looked back over his shoulder, meeting Kiya's gaze, then forward again.

Kiya followed the direction of his gaze. She tensed as she stepped up beside him. Sarita twirled provocatively to the upbeat tempo of the music. The choreography was meant to draw the watcher's eye to the dancer's curves as they rolled their hips around.

A lead weight settled in Kiya's stomach as Sarita lost pace with the two dancers in front of her and fumbled through a step.

She stumbled sideways again, nearly falling into one of the tables. Kiya's grip on her tray tightened, and her gaze darted to the platform where Jabba the Hutt always held court. One of the patrons at the table grabbed Sarita, pulling her down into his lap.

Sarita pushed away. She found her feet only to stumble forward again. Kiya's gaze reshot to the dais again, her stomach dropping altogether.

Kiya thrust her empty tray into the kitchen boy's hands and headed for Sarita, who danced along staggeringly.

Yarna moved between Sarita and the throne. Kiya wrapped her arm around Sarita's waist.

"Kiya.." she said, as Kiya tried to lift her back to her feet. Saritas slid her other arm over Kiya's shoulder; Kiya grabbed her wrist with one hand, trying to hold her upright.

"Come," she said. "We have to move."

The music's tempo picked up. Kiya just caught a glimpse of the blue-skinned Twi'lek, dancing more dramatically. Her fellow backup singers followed suit. Kiya's attention moved over the platform. She hoped they hadn't been observed. The battered green chest plates of Mandalorian battle armor drew Kiya's attention back. She didn't have a moment to contemplate the familiar figure, however.

Kiya did her best to hold Sarita up as she followed the winding steps down a level. Sarita kept tripping along beside her. It hadn't even occurred to Kiya what she was actually doing until she had crossed the room. She just couldn't. Kiya swallowed, shaking her head. She refused to give the image, trying to form in her head any quarter.

They finally made it to the dancer's pit, and another one of the girls moved forward to help. It was the one with short spiky hair and violet eyes. She slid her arm under Saritas other side, and they dragged her to the nearest vanity chair and helped her into the chair.

Sarita's eyes were closed; head turned to the side. Her legs fell apart at odd angles. Her cheeks were sunken in, and a grey pallor tinted her blue skin.

"Stupid girl!" Melina Carniss snapped, storming into the room behind them. Her blue eyes snapping. "You nearly ruined the show."

The choreographer approached, not waiting for a response; she slapped Sarita across the face when she didn't open her eyes. A purple handprint remained.

The other girl, Neelah, Kiya, thought her name was moved back.

"Go, take her place," Melina snapped at the dark-haired dancer, who hurried to comply. "You filthy stupid child!" the choreographer barked. "You have no idea how lucky you are even to be here!"

Kiya glared at Melina Carniss, she couldn't help herself, but she bit her tongue. If the older woman hadn't pushed Spice on Sarita, she wouldn't be strung out. That was the problem with Spice. One taste and most sentients could never leave the dependence behind without seeking medical help. Her grandfather had told her stories of mine workers he'd seen rescued from slavery. Growing up on Smugglers Moon, Kiya had seen the realities of what Spice could do to someone first hand.

Sarita flopped her upper body over the arm of the chair. Kiya jumped back just in time as Sarita threw up all over the floor.

"Clean it up!" The older woman ordered the younger girl, who cleaned the room. She turned her ire on Kiya next. "You get back to your area before I tell Bob Fortuna you don't know your place."

XxX

Kiya wrung the water out of the cloth and held it against Sarita's brow. "You have to stop taking Spice," she said, wiping the dark liner that had run streaks down Sarita's blue cheeks from her face.

Sarita opened her eyes and started up at Kiya dully.

"If you want to live, you have to stop."

Her yellow eyes fell closed again. Kiya let out a heavy breath. She reached up, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and her hand over her hair. Kiya sat down on the floor, cross-crossing her legs in front of her. She wiped more makeup from Sarita's face. Kiya had brought the drinks sitting on the table just inside the door like she usually did this time, hoping there wouldn't be many around. She had found the room empty except for Sarita laying on one of the sofas sitting against the wall.

"I don't think she cares if she lives," Yarna d'al' Gargan said from the doorway in basic, startling Kiya. She met the other female's dark gaze. "It happens that way for many who find their way here," she offered as she made her way toward Kiya.

Kiya watched as she made her way to one of the nearby vanities and leaned her hips against the chair in front of it. "Thank you for earlier," Kiya said.

The other female nodded.

"How did she come to be here?"

Kiya shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know." Kiya hadn't asked, and even if they had more time together, Kiya doubted she would have. Survival was easier when you let certain aspects go. Kiya had had to learn to look at everything analytically, even her own life.

Still, she knew why it was so hard just to leave Sarita to her fate.

"You're safe; Melina won't be back anytime soon. She is vying with Rystáll Sant for Boba Fett's attention," her companion said, drawing her from her thoughts.

At the name Boba Fett, her brow furrowed, and the image of the man in the Mandalorian battle armor filled her head again.

"Know the name?" the dancer asked.

Kiya shook her head no. "Is he the one in the mando armor?"

"Noticed him, did you?"

Before she could respond, Yarna went on. "I'm not surprised. Most females do. There's something about a man as dangerous as Fett. It's an aphrodisiac for some and a caution sign to others. Mind you, I would stay as far away from him as I could. He's a ruthless dangerous man."

Kiya filed the name and information away in her head, not saying she believed she'd encountered him long ago when she was still just a child. She hadn't thought of the man who helped climb out the tunnel in a very long time.

"Which are you, I wonder?" Yarna said, studying Kiya closely.

"Smart," Kiya replied plainly.

The Askajian watched her for a moment more, one edge of her lips pulling upward. She turned and leaned close to the mirror and pulled off one of her warts, then another.

She met Kiya's gaze in the mirror. "Jabba says I remind him of his mother."

Kiya suddenly had to clear her throat, horrified. She'd been nonplused as Yarna started removing her warts. Now she was really speechless.

There was a slight twinkle in the other woman's eye as she began wiping makeup from her face. "Most sentients have no idea what to say to that."

Kiya found herself nearly smiling. She might not have noticed so soon, but the scar on the left side of her face pulled tight, causing the tendrils that just touch the edge of her bottom lip to do the same.

"He makes me keep my face painted so no one can see what I really look like."

The Askajians' attention dropped from Kiya's face to where Sarita lay on the lounge. Sarita had fallen back to sleep. Yarna's dark gaze turned more serious. "Your friend is too soft for this life." There was an understanding in her dark regard as she held Kiya's pale one in the mirror. "It would be a kindness for her to find her way out of it sooner rather than later." There was a moment of silence before her companion spoke again. "Go, before you get yourself in trouble with Porcellus. I have to redo my makeup, but she should be fine here after I'm gone."

Kiya nodded. She didn't know if Porcellus noticed her earlier disappearance, but she was not sure she should push her luck. Something also told her Melina Carrniss would tell that slimy Twi'lek if Kiya irritated her enough. Still, Kiya said, "I'll try to sneak back later."

Much Later That Same Night.

Boba Fett rolled his shoulder, stretched his neck, and stood. He stayed there a moment, letting cool air from the repulsors in the ceiling wash over his face. The feeling was pleasant, if somewhat unfamiliar these days. He only enjoyed it for a moment, then lifted his helmet from the stand by his bed and put it back on. Sleeping in his armor was not as comfortable as it had once been. Not that he really slept in anything else, even when he was traveling in hyperspace. His knee was bothering him pretty severely tonight, and that made sleep all the more elusive. It was a reminder that he had lived a hard life while he wasn't really all that old by most standards. He needed to have his knee replaced. He had the credits to have a clone grown, but he had other responsibilities at present, and he'd be down for a few days when he did. He would be defenseless while he was asleep. That wasn't something he would do easily.

Boba grabbed his blaster rifle and made his way to the door, and punched in the code that opened it. He stepped outside, quickly hitting another sequence, and the door locked tightly behind him. His codes changed with every use; it was the only way he was even remotely sure to keep unwanted visitors out, though that wasn't foolproof either. Boba Fett learned long ago not to sleep soundly unless he was alone and secure. That only happened when he was in hyperspace.

Jabba's palace was never completely silent, even when all were asleep. If you listened and Boba Fett's hearing was better than most sentients. It was one of the only alterations done to him as a child, but if anyone listened, you could hear things you couldn't hear when the denizens of the palace were awake. The low hum of the cooling system, the sound of vermin scurrying across the stone and steel floors were just two. Right now, not too far away, the disembodied brain of B'omarr Monk was moving along in one of its brain walkers.

Boba Fett, a man who valued silence, preferred this time of day to the other. He could hear himself think. Boba Fett wasn't a man to second guess himself ever. If he were a different sort of man, he would question if the credits and his plans were worth dealing with this.

He listened to the brain walker for a moment more than headed up to the floor above. The exercise was usually better for his knee than laying there and letting it hurt worse. He reached the landing by the throne room, and the faint sound of light footsteps behind him greeted his ears. They weren't running, but whoever they were, they were moving quickly.

Boba stepped into the throne room. He slid back into the shadows waiting to see who was coming, rifle up but not all the way. Whoever it was drew closer, if they were after him they were doing a poor job of covering their approach. Boba had already ruled out one of Jabba's Gamorrean guards. Gamorrean were too heavy-footed and slow. The steps were too light to be Fortuna as well, and he snored softly away on his own cot near Jabba. It wasn't one of the brain walkers, either. He switched on the infrared in his helmet. The figure was small, but he'd guessed that already. They were also human or near-human.

The steps reached the landing in front of the doorway and stopped. After a moment, a slender figure two or three inches shorter than him moved into the doorway. They hugged the side of the arched frame, scanning the shadows within. Boba silently turned off the infrared as the figure stepped into the room and into a broken shaft of moonlight. It was her, the scarred girl from earlier who'd rushed the Wroonian girl from the throne room. She was either braver than most or stupider. In his experience, which was considerable, the two were often confused.

Boba had thought the young Wroonian girl was nearly at her end. She had been stumbling for the last few steps. The other dancers and the girls from the band tried to draw attention as much as possible.

Another female he had never seen before was suddenly at her side. She quickly helped her upright and slid her arm under the Wroonian girl's side, taking her weight. She wrapped her hand around the Wrooninas other wrist.

The Askajian Jabba had an affinity for, had moved the dancing way from them as they hurried toward the door. Her fellow dancer followed suit. Lyn Me suddenly twirled dramatically, assuring Jabba's attention moved away from the retreating figures.

The scarred girl looked in the direction of the platform again. Her gaze passed over him, then snapped back, her brow furrowed.

Boba watched as she hurried the other female out the doorway.

Only the stupidest sentient creatures put themselves on the line for someone else unless there were credits involved. Especially if a creature like Jabba was involved.

Boba silently followed her movements as she crossed the throne room once again. She kept to the shadows opposite him, moving nearly as silently as he would now. She paused in front of the frozen effigy of Han Solo. A thick braid hanging down her back, her head tilted back. She moved closer, so she was directly in front of the frame and looked at the side. She lifted her hand. For a moment, Boba Fett thought she meant to push the blinking button on the side. She touched the side of the frame and his hold on his blaster rifle tightened. Still he waited, tilting his head to the side, he watched her curiously. If she did intend to free Solo, he would stop her; of course, but right now, he wanted to know what she planned.

She stepped back a second later and looked over her shoulder, peering directly into the shadows that concealed him. The soft ambient light over her head, highlighted the scar on the side of her face. Boba Fett questioned for just a moment if she knew he was there, watching her. She looked forward again a second later, her attention lifting to Han Solo for another moment. She moved away, disappearing through the door hidden in the wall to the right of Solo.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
